analytics

guinevere

In the night of my wick, I wander, woolen and cowled.  Chant and charity, to drown the noisome silence of the day past.  The lives lived and lost in the scope of hours I have walked.  When none speak, I hear the widow and the orphan calling my guilt.  This black does not cover crimson. In the faces of the smiling sisters, I hear the judge's verdict.  With my heart I crushed nations. I summoned the doom of this day by my careless eye.  And because I loved too much, I lost all I love.

In morning I was as the sunfed flower, reaching, thirsty.  And the sun loved me well.  It crowned me and gave me colors resplendent.  The Song ran through the wind. Granting us sight to see the promise every sunrise displays. It feasted my thirst and youth reigned. 

And youth reigned, and in my joy I see I desired more.  A moon there was and his beauty made you dance.  It promised beauty purer still. A beauty that strove against the silence. A beauty that broke me remade. Promised me wholeness, solidity, a joy quenched.  Yet the moon reflects: it needs another. The forgotten. And in the day, I forgot my sun to seek the knight. 

In seeking, I lost.  In thirsting, I drowned.  My love brought hate. And evening came with crows and carrion to rest upon the gallows. Friend against friend. Father against son. I am a curse upon my people. Casting them all into my perdition.  Why do you not consume me? Why do I still have eyes to see?

Do not mourn the fallow queen. If the sun shall rise again as is told, pray he choose a truer flower.

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